All the Time in the World
by Nancing Sporks
Summary: Spike is transported to an unfamiliar place, where he meets up with one Peregrin Took. He is suddenly in the middle of a strange world… with even stranger beings.


Authors: Rowan and Lailonnwen (Migratory Coconut and The-Dove, jointly known as Nancing Sporks. Rowan is a particularly short Hobbit with dirty blonde hair and green eyes, and Lailonnwen is a particularly tall elf with silvery-brown hair and normal gray eyes.  
  
Where Can We Praise You, Oh Wonderful Beings?: GirlsWithFlamingSpatulas@Msn.com , to let you know. Flames will be sent to Charlie Weasley, to aid his dragon research.  
  
Summary: Spike is transported to Middle-earth where he meets up with Peregrin Took. He is suddenly in the middle of a strange world. with even stranger beings. That'll teach him not to interrupt Willow's spells.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Genre: Humor/Mystery/Adventure/Drama/Romance  
  
Pairings: P/Sp, Ara/Arw  
  
Distribution: Oh, ha-ha. Nobody reads our crap! (But if you do. E-mail us and tell us where you're posting it!)  
  
Disclaimer: We only own two pennies that we rub together occasionally. Go us! In short, we own nothing in this story. Hell, we own nothing but our computers in the real world anyhow! No, that's not an offer for you to take my Computer, John.  
  
A/N: Don't mind Pip's speech. We've got to take into consideration his brogue. (Kristen says: Pippins accent rox my sox!) Plus, I'm not sure if Kristen will let me make this a slash story. If so I fully intend to keep the content to a minimum- just a little UST as the hobbit/human (or Vampire) anatomy-thing is a little strange to imagine. The size difference is rather astounding... can you imagine?  
  
Er... anyway, homophobes, don't read any of The-Doves other stories. Except for '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall' and its second part 'Row, Row, Row, Your Boat'. well, I believe that's the only non-slash fic that I've posted. Hmm. I'll have to actually write a non-slasher.  
  
Oh, and just to let you know in our warped and strange twisting of Tolkien's story, Pippin and Frodo are a bit younger- as are Sam and Merry- but not by much. This is set after Frodo gave up being Mayor of Hobbiton, but before he sailed to the Gray Havens with Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel, and co.  
  
Legolas and Gimli may make an appearance, but will most likely just continue their journeying. Aragorn has been coronated and rules the White City with lady Arwen at his side. Samwise and Rose Cotton married, Merry rules over Buckland, but Pippin did not become Thain yet.  
  
If you have any idea what all this means, good for you!  
  
If not.  
  
Ai! Havo dad, lásto a baw daro yér, mellyn! *sticks out tongue and holds out copy of Lord of the Rings*  
  
Also, we know that Spike is acting a little OOC, but you have to remember that he's kinda psychotic. After all, he did just get his soul back.  
  
We also realize that book Pippin was not as clumsy or quite as stupid- acting as movie Pippin was. We intend to use the books- they were better than the movies anyhow- but would like to state that our views on him became a little warped after seeing the movies.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ubAll the Time in the World/b/u  
  
  
  
  
  
"I still dun't quite get it." Peregrin Took commented, swinging his legs back and forth, as he sat perched on the fence. The man whom he was addressing scowled.  
  
"Of course you don't. Git like you probl'y don't know anythin' about magic." The British voice was cold and quite vexed. "Does everythin' just come in one ear and out the other?"  
  
Pippin regarded this, for a moment. "What? You'll need t' repeat yerself. I must'ave not been payin' 'ttention." He grinned cheekily.  
  
The stranger scoffed. "You act like random people appearin' in front of you is common."  
  
Pippin just shrugged. "I've seen 'nough t' believe anythin' at this point."  
  
The man stared openly. "What'd do you mean? You can't be more than, fifteen. Seventeen."  
  
Pip scowled. "I'm thirty three, thank ye!"  
  
The stranger laughed, though not in good humor. "What the bloody hell are you?"  
  
  
  
  
  
"A Hobbit, a halfling. I'm Pippin. And you?" Pippin bounced down from the fence to peer at the stranger. The moonlight didn't provide an incredibly clear picture. The man just chuckled bitterly.  
  
"The name's Spike. And I'm not quite sure what I am."  
  
Pippin made a face. "Well, be glad you en't an Orc. Nasty things, they are!"  
  
"Orc?"  
  
"You know.big, slimy, and th' smell quite horrible too!" Pippin shuddered. "I know, I've been caught by them once, wit' me friend n' cousin, Merry.you dun't know 'im."  
  
Spike gave him a bored look. "That's all fine and dandy, but I really would like to get back to Sunnydale before the sun gets up." He commented dryly, and then dusted himself off. Looking around, he realized something. "Where am I, anyways?"  
  
Pip gave him yet another weird look. "Sunnydale? Where'd t'at be? In any case, we're in Hobbiton."  
  
"And where, is that?" It was clear that this Spike person was very impatient, and Pip mentioned this.  
  
"Just tell me where we are! Are we even in the bloody States?!"  
  
"The bloody States? I've never heard o' t'at, and I've been all over Middle-earth. We're in Hobbiton, in th' Shire, in Middle-earth. anythin' else ye'd be likin' t' know?" Pippin started strolling down the street, roughly in the direction of Bag End.i Maybe Frodo will know what to do with this bothersome human.if that's even what he is./i  
  
"And just where are you going?" Asked Spike, a bit nervous at being left alone in an unfamiliar place, however psychotic his guide may be.i Mental note to self: never walk in on Willow while she's experimenting with previously untested spells.it has a tendency to have bloody unsatisfactory results./i  
  
"T' Frodo's smial! He'll know what t' do wit' ye! He knows a lot, him bein' on all those advent'rs n' sorts! Well, I went too, but he's a mite more.ah.In any case, if it do 'ave t' do wit' magic, e'll know what t' do! E's got some elf friends, we all do, and they can help ye too!"  
  
  
  
  
  
Pippin bounced cheerily on short legs and bare feet down the dusty road, bathed in moonshine. His wild curls bobbed too and fro, his overcoat flapped, and even Spike had to admit, he made quite the ridiculous spectacle. But that wasn't the last of it.  
  
Pip turned around, still skipping, and began to sing as he hopped backwards.  
  
"Hey, ho, t' th' pub I go! (Spike was tempted to think that he had actually just come from the pub)  
  
"T' heal me heart, n' drown me woe! Th' rain may fall, th' wind may blow, But there' still be.many miles t' go!"  
  
And that was when he tripped over his own feet, and landed in a pile of Hobbit and clothing in the middle of the trail.  
  
Spike smirked silently. Pippin picked himself right back up, and skipped off in the right direction, muttering something about sweet rain, and hills and plains.  
  
"T'ere's a mug o' beer, inside this Took!" He finished with a yip, and resumed skipping in silence. After a moment of- thank God- a lack of singing, he turned around again.  
  
"I know one about a-"  
  
"That's more than enough," Spike interrupted. The halfling wasn't all that bad at singing, but he didn't know how more of those songs he could take.  
  
Pippin sighed dejectedly, before his eyes became bright once more. With absolutely no knowledge that the man- or whatever he was- beside him could rip him apart he began to talk. Loudly, persistently, and in the most annoying way possible.  
  
Spike closed his eyes and put a hand to his head. A sharp pounding pain repeatedly slammed against the back of his head. The little man was talking constantly, and the chatter was not at all relevant.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oi! Spike, w're almos' there!" Pippin was bouncing excitedly on his bare feet. He pointed to a large hill with windows cut into the earth and a round and green door with a little handle in the middle jutting out slightly from the surface. "Frodo's home, Bag e'd."  
  
"It looks like a hole in the dirt." He plainly stated. Pippin turned to look at him, hands on his hips indignantly. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and began to move again. "It look's 'lot bett'r inside!" He exclaimed, reaching up and grabbing Spike by the sleeve.  
  
Spike growled and jerked his arm from the Hobbit's grip, eyes flashing yellow. A gasp drew from Pippin and Spike looked down at him to raise an eyebrow.  
  
He studied him for a moment before shrugging and continuing on his way. Spike didn't know whether to call him stupid or brave, or just plain silly.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The pair soon reached the round door on the face of the hill. Pippin reached out and grasped the little knob. He tugged it open noisily and stepped into the little hallway.  
  
Spike crouched down and half crawled through the hole until he reached a spot where he could stand comfortably. "Fr-" Pippin began, when a little figure jumped out from a shadow wielding a sword.  
  
Within moments, Pippin had spun away with a swiftness that surprised Spike, and had drawn a thin-bladed dagger from a sheath on his wrist. Suddenly he stopped and began to laugh. His shoulders shook and Spike watched on in confusion.  
  
"Ai! Pip, I could've killed you!" Cried the figure that Spike now recognized as another Hobbit. He threw the little sword down (though it was amazing that he could hold it in one hand, seeing as he was missing a few crucial appendages in the general area of where fingers where supposed to be) and jumped over to embrace the other.  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. iMy god, are they gay?/i He decided he was greatly disturbed.  
  
"What'd you do t'at fer?" Pippin asked, extracting himself from Frodo's arms.  
  
Frodo gave him his trademark wide eyed innocent look. "Do what?"  
  
  
  
  
  
"T'at! Ye know, wit' th' sword n' all! I'm yer cousin, for Brandywine's sakes, not some dead king tryin' t' take th' ring n' kill ye wit' a Morg'l blade! Though t'at did happen once 'er twice." He added to Spike.  
  
The vampire decided he was even more disturbed. Cousins? This was, to put it lightly, horribly, horribly wrong.  
  
"An' 'den there was t'at time when ye almos' go' 'ttacked by Bor'mir." He trailed off sadly. "Great feller, 'e was. I mean, when 'e wasn't." He trailed off again, glancing at Frodo. "Ye know. Took 'em THREE BLOODY ARROWS to knock 'em off!"  
  
He paused, and held an imaginary hat over his chest with one hand. The other was used to wipe away a tear that wasn't there.  
  
"Great guy, 'e was."  
  
Pippin didn't seem to notice that the other two were staring at him and his erratic behavior.  
  
Spike mumbled something about 'needing Ritalin desperately'.  
  
Frodo shuddered in dismay, as he recalled certain events involving him, Boromir, and cuddling. if you could call it that. He'd been a bit more cautious about to whom he hugged after that.  
  
Spike, on the other hand, was completely lost, and growing more disturbed by the moment. Also, his neck was starting to cramp up; a result of having to hunch over so. He crossed his fingers and tried to straighten his back the slightest bit.  
  
CRACK!  
  
  
  
  
  
That brought both hobbits to attention, and Pippin magically remembered why he was there.  
  
"Oh, right. Frodo, this's Spike. 'E dun't know who 'e is, an' 'e comes from the Bloody States. Ye ever heard o' them?"  
  
"Can't say that I have." Frodo looked around for a match, and lit the lantern that hung near the doorway. He turned around, and looked at Spike in bewilderment. So did Pippin for that matter.  
  
The man- or thing- had white-blonde hair that shone brightly in the dim light (though it may have been better looking if he'd not had a hand clutched to his forehead in pain), and his eyes were dark blue. Jutting cheekbones mapped the harsh planes of his face, though his chin and lips were strangely softened in comparison. The nose was almost perfectly centered on his face, and would have been if it had not been for a small bump in the middle that suggested it had been broken more than a few times.  
  
He wore a black leather overcoat that hung to his calves, an open red shirt over a tighter black one, and black pants of a strange fabric. All in all he looked, well. kind of dark and melancholy.  
  
  
  
  
  
Frodo decided he didn't get out much. The guy probably didn't even know what the Rings of Power were, much less about Sauron. It was very sad, very sad indeed.  
  
"Ye dun't get out 'nough, d'ya?" Pippin, it seemed, had come to the same conclusion. Spike glared at him and huffed loudly. "Oi, dun't git 'll defensive 'n 'll."  
  
"I'm not getting defensive!" he cried loudly, hands gesticulating wildly. "I just want to get away from you freaks!"  
  
"Whut's a freak?" Pippin asked.  
  
Frodo's eyebrows drew together as he though. "A bird? How about a fish? Maybe it's a new species."  
  
"Or 'n old un, like th' Ent's!" The taller Hobbit looked up at Spike. "Whut is a freak anyho'?"  
  
Spike sighed and shook his head. "Nevermind." He groaned. Both the other two shrugged.  
  
"So. Why are both of you, er. here?" Frodo asked slowly and awkwardly. He brushed his hands awkwardly against his breeches as if trying to get off dirt.  
  
"Well, he's sure got a way with the words, don't he?" The taller person muttered under his breath. Pippin giggled, apparently hearing.  
  
"I don't know why I'm here, actually." Spike trailed off, contemplating. "I accidentally interrupted one of Willow's magic experiments, and poof! I'm laying on the side of the road, and this pint-sized git," He nodded towards Pippin, who seemed quite pleased with his new title. "Is gabbin' faster than.well.pretty damn fast."  
  
Frodo nodded seriously. "Yes.he does that." He shook his head, as if in deep thought. "Who's Willow? I didn't know trees could perform magic spells.but then again, Legolas was always singin' n' talkin' to them.crazy elf."  
  
Spike opened his mouth.and then decided it was better left untouched. "Okay then.Willow is a human. She's a witch. Willow is her name. Not her species. Got it?" He talked slowly and enunciated each syllable, as if talking to little children.  
  
Frodo gave him a funny look, then giggled in a strange high pitch. The other two gave him strange looks in return.  
  
"What?" He protested.  
  
Spike decided that was also better left alone. Pippin had no such qualms.  
  
"Ye sound like a g'rl, Frodo. Rosie 'ould b' proud o' ye. but I'm not so sure 'bout Sam."  
  
Before Frodo could leap at Pippin with the sole intent of yanking every last curl out of his head, Spike intervened. (Though he had to admit, he was somewhat looking forward to Passions, Hobbit style. He could imagine it now.)  
  
Snapping out of his trance, Spike cleared his throat. "In any case, she's a witch. Isn't that amazing kids? She makes things go poof.who in this case, would be me."  
  
Pippin and Frodo stared dumbly at him. Spike sighed.  
  
"I'm here, she's there, and I'm screwed."  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh." Frodo nodded. "I don't quite know what that means, but it doesn't sound all too very pleasant. You want to get back home, is that it?"  
  
"I prefer my way of explaining it. It doesn't make me sound like such a lost puppy." Spike nodded.  
  
"'Ell then, what'd we do now?" Pippin asked, seating himself cross- legged on the floor of the entryway.  
  
"I suppose we'll have to go to the Elves.too bad I haven't seen Gandalf for over a year.it would make things so much easier. It won't be an easy trip, mind you. Pip n' I know. Don't we Pip?"  
  
"O', yes. Very not 't all easy." Pippin bobbed his head enthusiastically. "Mighty dange'rus. Lot's o' vi'lence." He looked at Spike doubtfully. "I dun't know if ye can 'andle it."  
  
Spike glared. "I'll have you know, I've killed enough people to make up a small city. A large city, even."  
  
Frodo's eyes grew wide and Pippin grinned.  
  
"Really?" Frodo asked, innocent voice sounding rather frightened.  
  
Spike nodded and Pippin smiled wider. "T'at's splend'd!" He exclaimed. The blonde looked down at him, lips curving into a small smile. Their eyes locked for one moment and Frodo's right eye twitched slightly.  
  
Abruptly he realized what he was doing and spun away with a low growl that bubbled out of his chest forcefully. "Well, we'll have to wait until tomorrow night, I think." He said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I can't tell you." The pain and self-loathing on his voice made Frodo blink in surprise. Pippin jumped up so quickly that he tripped over his feet for the second time that night.  
  
  
  
  
  
He went sprawling on the wooden floor with a little cry of shock. "Ow." Came the muffled voice of the tall hobbit.  
  
Spike chuckled throatily and leaned over, grabbed him by his collar, and hauled him up to his feet with no strain at all. The hobbit looked up to glare at him and he mock-shivered.  
  
"Give it up, Pip." Frodo told him wisely. Pippin glared at him in turn before turning on his heel down a hallway- where he crashed right into a coat rack.  
  
Both the other two called after him, "Try not to kill yourself!" Though, in Spike's case, it wasn't all that sincere.  
  
Pippin made a sound of outrage and stalked into the kitchen.  
  
The other too stood silently in the hallway, staring after the Took with eyebrows raised and backs tense. Frodo giggled again, the high- pitched sound cutting through Spike's ears until he thought they might bleed.  
  
Spike growled again and walked quickly towards the kitchen, leaving a girly-sounding ringbearer in his wake.  
  
When he entered the kitchen Pippin was sitting at a table that dwarfed him, munching happily away on a scone. Spike smiled as he noticed that the Hobbits bare feet were swinging back and forth and he was humming under his breath. His curly hair fell forward into his eyes and he pushed it back in annoyance.  
  
Spike walked heavily over to the table and snatched a scone off the plate resting in the middle. He shoved half of it in his mouth and sat as comfortably as was possible (considering the size of the chairs) at the table.  
  
Pippin looked up, mouth full and a trail of crumbs on his chin. "Aye, Spike!" His words were even more garbled than they had been- almost as bad as Angelus when he was drunk. Spike leaned back in his chair when Frodo entered, practically skipping, and still giggling like a little girl.  
  
It looked as if he may die from exposure to such cheerful beings before the sunlight got to him.  
  
  
  
  
  
They sipped at tea politely, looking at each other through the corner of their eyes while trying to look as if they weren't. Their attempts at discretion were not at all helpful.  
  
Pippin set his teacup down carefully and cleared his throat. Both Frodo and Spike looked up expectantly as the taller Hobbit stood from his seat and moved to stand beside it.  
  
"Can I use on' o' t' spare rooms fer t'night?" He asked in his rough accent, pink tinge spreading across his cheeks.  
  
Frodo nodded and waved him off. "You remember where the clean sheets are, yes?" Pippin nodded and Frodo smiled. "Good night, Pip!" He called after him, as he scrambled into the hallway/tunnel in search of clean bedding.  
  
"Do you 'ave another spare room that I can use, mate?" Spike asked as he shoved a piece of scone into his mouth. Frodo nodded once more, pointing off in the direction that Pippin had gone off in. "I'll just find the bloody little wanker before he kills himself."  
  
Spike stood and moved quickly from the room with his leather jacket swirling behind him.  
  
Frodo smiled and properly refrained from giggling in his high-pitched way. He got up from his chair and stacked the little plates and cups up. The hobbit dumped them in the washing trough and stumbled off to his own bed.  
  
The dishes could wait until morning.  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike knocked on the door he could her a small heartbeat coming from. There was a sleepy sound and a small scuffling as Pippin shuffled over to the door. It was tugged open and a the lethargic little male with brown curls poked his head out into the hallway.  
  
He looked blearily up at Spike and yawned, stretching his little arms over his head. "What d'ya wan', Spike?" Pippin asked tiredly.  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow when he saw that he had procured some night clothing.  
  
"I just wanted to know where the sheets and the extra bed are." He told him slowly, deep voice finally penetrating Pippin's sleep-addled skull.  
  
"Oh, righ'. Down the lef' hall'ay an' in t' ches' by the near's' door'ay t'ere's a cupboard. She'ts an' othe' stuff 're in th're. T' door'ay opens inta the othe' spare ro'm."  
  
Spike nodded and Pippin blinked blurrily. "'S t'at 'll?" His voice was slurred with fatigue. At Spike's nod, he turned from the doorway and slowly made his way back to his bed, into which he fell into already asleep.  
  
Spike shook his head and laughed a little at how strange the little Hobbit was. He quickly walked through the hallway (hunched over, as always) until he found the chest.  
  
Reaching in he grabbed a pair of blankets and sheets that did not match in any way and stomped into the room. The bed here was normal human sized, which surprised him to no end.  
  
He threw the sheets and blankets onto the bed and sat heavily upon it. Pulling his heavy legs up he pulled off his combat boots and slipped out of his jeans quickly. Spike's shirt followed the pants onto the floor until he was completely naked and comfortable.  
  
Spike drew the covers up over his pale body and let his eyes drift shut lazily. He drew in an unnecessary breath and exhaled, all the worries and pains of his long day pushed away to the inner recesses of his mind as he fell into a deep sleep.  
  
He was so tired that he failed to notice that he had left the shutters open- a perfect opportunity for sunlight to sneak in.  
  
  
  
  
  
The first thing that Spike noticed when he awoke was that he was pleasantly warm. Warmer, in fact, than he had been in all the years he'd been a vampire (With the exception of the Boxer Rebellion, because of the huge fires that had been everywhere.).  
  
His blue eyes cracked open slowly, stiff with sleep. His mouth opened widely and he stretched his arms over his head as he yawned like a large cat.  
  
That's when he realized just why he was so warm. The shutters were open and sunlight streamed into the room.  
  
Spike immediately panicked, letting out a loud and womanly scream as he scrambled from the bed. Or more accurately fell from it with a loud thump and another shout of pain as his head knocked against the wooden floor.  
  
He rolled under the bed where there was blessed darkness. (He pulled his pants down and dressed right after.)  
  
  
  
  
  
Pippin shot up in bed, eyes wild and hands raised into fighting position. When the Hobbit realized that the womanly screams were coming not from his room but a different area of the house he jumped out of his warm and cozy bed.  
  
The Hobbits first thought was of Frodo, for his cousin was known to sound rather like a girl when scared- but no, it was a little different. An intruders scream perhaps?  
  
He cut his musings short and swung his legs hurriedly over the side of the bed.  
  
His feet were shoved into a pair of slippers that had been carefully positioned in front of his bed the night before, and he ran towards the scream.  
  
It had come from the room Spike was supposed to be staying in. Pippin wondered what had happened as his little feet pounded against the wood. He almost skidded past the round doorway, but managed to stop just in time.  
  
He jerked open the door and ran inside, looking around madly for any sign of the blonde haired man. A small whimper from under the bed told him of his whereabouts.  
  
"Spike?" He said uncertainly. "Wha' ar' ye doin' und' a 'ed?" Pippin asked, a bit bemused. "Somethin' scar' ye?"  
  
Spike moaned and he heard something that vaguely sounded like 'sunlight' and 'shutters'. Pippin immediately thought that his new companion was psychotic, or merely very strange.  
  
"Yer a'raid o' ta sun?" The incredulous tone to his voice triggered an angry growl from the other.  
  
"I'm, er. allergic." Spike clarified, voice muffled by the wood above him. Frodo ran into the room suddenly with his eyes wide. He took in the scene and looked like he was about to scream, so Pippin clapped a hand over his mouth.  
  
  
  
  
  
Frodo's wide and innocent eyes turned confused as he looked at Spike then his cousin with bewilderment. "He's allergic to the sun." Pippin explained, taking his hand from Frodo's mouth slowly.  
  
The smaller Hobbit nodded and ran over to close the shutters. The room immediately became dim, and Spike rolled out from under the large bed with a groan of pain as his shoulder grazed the rough edge of the frame.  
  
"Are you okay, Spike?" Frodo asked urgently, rushing over to place a small hand on the others palm to check for a steady pulse- making sure the sunlight hadn't had a horrible effect.  
  
Spike shrieked and pushed him away violently. Frodo fell to the floor and screeched in surprise as Spike first clutched his hand then yelled in pain and put a hand to his forehead as if he had suddenly developed a horrible headache.  
  
Pippin checked quickly to make sure that Frodo had not been too badly hurt then rushed over to Spike who was still holding his head in his hands. He gingerly pulled the first hand away and gasped in surprise.  
  
Blisters and boils dotted the white skin in the middle of his palm. The skin was red as if he had put his hand in the fire or been branded with iron. Spike hissed a breath out between his teeth as Pippin prodded the wound gently.  
  
His eyebrows drawn together, Pippin looked a little closer at the wound. A little outline of a long line with a shorter one through the middle was burned into the flesh of Spike's palm.  
  
"Wha' 's t'at, Spike?" He asked, pointing at the small brand. Spike closed his eyes and tugged his hand away, face turning away from both the Hobbits gazes as if he were in pain.  
  
"It's that ink thing I accidentally put on my hand." Frodo whispered, surprised.  
  
"It's a cross," At their confused sounds Spike sighed heavily and turned a little so they could only see his profile. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes had little lines around them as if he were in mental pain. "A religious symbol."  
  
"Why would a religious symbol burn you?" Frodo asked him in surprise. "I thought that they were meant to be good things." He trailed off.  
  
Spike laughed bitterly and his eyes closed briefly. "They are, if you're a good being."  
  
And after that emission he would say no more, no matter how Frodo and Pippin prodded him to answer.  
  
  
  
  
  
They sat around the table like last night, the shutters tightly closed and all other windows were covered with drapes or sheets. Frodo had turned up a plethora of candles and lanterns, which he immediately lit.  
  
Spike muttered something about it feeling like his 'crypt'. He had grown paler from last night but the other two assumed it was from his fright earlier.  
  
In actuality, he had not fed for more than two days and was growing weary.  
  
Pippin was teasing him unmercifully for screaming like a woman, and he kept mimicking him. Spike finally had to pick him up gently by the collar and hold him three feet up in the air until they were eye- level. He then growled in his small face menacingly until Pippin begged to be let down.  
  
Frodo giggled like a little girl again and went to make some strong tea. He had a strange feeling they would need it.  
  
  
  
  
  
As they sat around the table sipping their warm beverages (Pippin and Spike dumping three spoonfulls of sugar in each), the three began to plot their course to Lothlorien. Frodo suggested stopping in Rivendell to see if Gandalf, Aragorn or any other fellowship members were visiting- they hadn't visited in a while.  
  
Spike was very adamant about packing many, many blankets in case they got caught in the daylight. (When Frodo asked him what his disease was, Spike inwardly cursed himself for not paying attention when Dawn and Clem had forced him to watch iER/i.)  
  
They listed all the supplies that they would need to bring along and what weapons. Spike was surprised to find that Pippin could use an axe, sword, and bow if need be, and that Frodo could handle a sword without any major fumbling.  
  
In turn, the Hobbits were amazed at how proficient in weaponry their new travel-companion was. Any weapon that they mentioned he could use, and as he bragged, quite well indeed.  
  
Half the day passed before they realized it, though Frodo and Spike didn't mind half as much as Pippin did when they realized they had missed both breakfast and luncheon. Frodo jumped from his chair, ever the good host, and made a 'quick' lunch of eggs, sandwiches, potatoes, mushrooms, and bacon.  
  
Pippin noticed that Spike only picked at his food as if he was hungry but didn't want what he had. It was strange for Frodo was a rather good cook. But he shook it off almost immediately.  
  
  
  
  
  
"So, what's the what?" Spike finally asked, swearing internally when he realized he had sounded like Xander and Red. He winced when Pippin and Frodo just stared at him. "I mean, er. What's this world like?"  
  
As the two Hobbits explained the geography and history of middle-earth Spike's eyes began to drift shut as if he were tired. Pippin, in the middle of telling him of all the pubs they had, stopped and looked at Spike in concern.  
  
"Ar' ye alrigh'?" He asked softly.  
  
Spike's head shot up from its nodding and he blinked. "What? Oh, yeah. Just a little tired is all." A huge yawn overcame him and he cursed violently. Frodo's eyes (Which were no small thing in the first place) grew inherently larger. He winced slightly and Pippin laughed delightedly.  
  
The sound immediately cheered him slightly before surprise overtook him. The annoying little creature with feet that looked as if he had rodents perched on them was making him feel happy? There was something horribly wrong with him.  
  
"I mean, I'm just usually asleep at this, er, time of. day." He spoke brashly and shrugged. "S'not too bad, though. The Slayer and her gang always woke me up in the middle of the day anyway." Spike rolled his eyes. "No respect for me at all! Especially that time they all came in and tried to kill me."  
  
At both the others horrified looks he smiled. "Oh, don't worry. It happens to me a lot. Except for this one time, when one of Willow's spells went wrong.  
  
With his tiredness forgotten he launched into the story of the time when he and Buffy had been spelled to get married.  
  
  
  
  
  
".So, after I told them that she had wanted the first song to be 'Wind Beneath my Wings' they stuffed a cookie in my mouth." Pippin raised an eyebrow at the song. "Oh, its this sappy humans song."  
  
Frodo looked at the blonde Vampire in confusion. "All this was done by magic?"  
  
"Of course," Spike grinned evilly. "Magic can be done by anyone with enough will, you know."  
  
They fell silent for a few moments before Pippin began to bounce in a most annoying way. The other two gazed at him in confusion for a minute, before Frodo spoke up.  
  
"Pippin. what are you doing? You know you needn't ask to use the restroom." Frodo looked genuinely confused.  
  
Pippin shook his head, still bouncing. "I'ma tryin' t' fly, Frodo! Jus' like Spike said!"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Keep tryin, and let me know when you actually manage to get off the ground for longer than a half-second."  
  
Pippin didn't seem to notice his sarcasm. "All righ' then!"  
  
Spike almost groaned. iWhat have I done to deserve this.wait.stupid question./i 


End file.
